


Nuhur

by Hagebutt



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aromantic Experiences, Gen, Measly Mando'a, Other, watching porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagebutt/pseuds/Hagebutt
Summary: Din doesn't *need* anyone, but he knows how to have a good time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Nuhur

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this short story because I needed help with realizing my feelings about my aromanticity. thanks for giving me your attention.
> 
> the name means literally "good times". the short thing, let's call it poem, is roughly "my little green child, the whole galaxy waits for you" or something like that.

Din’s parents definitely sang lullabies to their child before sleep; the problem was he didn’t remember which ones, or even in which language. He looked at his green adopted son with despair. How should he bring him to sleep?  
  
_“Nuhoy, nuhoy, orikih vorpan solus,  
tra cuyir ogir par gar,  
gar Kelir, cuyir ori,  
tra Kelir su cuyir ogir par gar…”_ he tried.  
  
It wasn’t good enough; Mandalorians emphasized fighting and the way bound with such lifestyle, while other, finer arts were often put in the background.  
  
Nevertheless, the child seemed to be completely content with his attempt. He cooed a few times, his breathing slowed down, and he finally fell asleep. Din looked at him with paternal love in his eyes – his son was, even when that seemed impossible, even cuter when he slept – and then he went out of the ship.  
  
They’ve parked the Razor Crest next to a rather small city, identical to many other small cities across the galaxy, standing in the middle of a desert yet having more than a thousand inhabitants, thus being a culture hub for the surroundings. He wanted to go through the city and find some work, but also to relax and relieve himself. Maybe have a drink, sit in the hot springs, watch something, try and find someone for carnal pleasure.  
  
But there was a problem. Most people didn’t realize this; for them it was instantly clear that the mighty warrior race has no feelings. But the Mandalorians saw it in a more complicated way. As caring for and raising children was the cornerstone of Mandalorian culture, they emphasized the importance of deep, loving relationships between the parents. And that was something that constituted a problem for Din.  
  
The romantic love wasn’t exactly an alien concept for him; his culture, as said, spent a lot of time banging into the heads of young Mandalorians how they never should settle in and make a family before they find someone reliable and worthy. It was just that Din never felt like that. He liked various people, liked to have friends and spend time with them, liked to have sex. But he never seemed to get to the higher level of wanting to devote his life to someone. It was okay if the young Mandalorian did feel indifferent or even negative towards sexual relations; adoption was just as noble. Yet there was no niche for people who felt the same about romance. Din wasn’t sad about it, he liked his freedom, but it came with a price. Which he was able to pay.  
  
He took a few turns until he got to the shabbier part of the city. There were narrow streets followed by a square, where a flea market took place. The ever-present Jawas and other life forms were quickly buying, vending and exchanging various goods. The Mandalorian wasn’t interested in the cheap blasters and other metal crap, he wanted something else. He went to the part of the flea market where was the fake “luxurious” stuff. He rejected a few trinkets, untangled himself from some gilded satin fabrics which were hanged on ropes between stalls and found his destination in form of a small, dusty alien sitting on a blanket full of pirate copies of holograms.  
  
“What does Mr Mando want, hä?” asked the alien as Din came to them. “Do I have something interesting for you?”  
  
Din kneeled down to them. “Let me look at some of your special goods, will you?” growled he from under his helmet.  
  
“Special goods!” said the alien with a lascivious tone in their voice, they even tried to do the wink. “You looking for something certain? Cross-species? Certain practices, hä?”  
  
The Mandalorian just kneeled, his helmet dark and expressionless, and the alien felt something like fear, creeping up their spine.  
  
“Care to narrow it down for me? No? Then I just search out some of the bests,” they said, their Basic blurring into a bunch of alien consonants. They searched quickly through the stash of holovids and chose a few.  
  
“Hopefully, Mr Mando will be satisfied,” creaked they as they gave him some memory cards and took the credits which were given to them in an offhand manner.  
  
Din walked away, hided the cards away into the satchel where he mostly carried his green kid and went for a stroll through the older part of the city, right to a cliff where a nice sight of the surroundings was offered. Various teens would often hang out in these places, but Din was there alone today. He took out a holoplayer and a mat he sat on and looked through the bought vids.  
  
“Let’s take a look what the alien gave me…” he murmured as he watched the short three-second-clips which were to see on the cards to help to get the idea about the content. It looked like random cross-section through genres and combinations, and people of his nation played part in most of them.   
  
He chose a vid with scandalous, pulsing inscription “A BEAUTIFUL HUMAN PRINCESS GETTING BRED BY A MANDALORIAN!”, stuck the card in the player and committed to himself.  
  
This was, at most times, good enough.  


**Author's Note:**

> ok, I know not all aromantic experiences are like "luckily there's porn"; I just wanted to use this not very typical element to show that love isn't Everything and that there are various ways to enjoy yourself.


End file.
